


Downpour

by AppalachianApologies



Category: Prodigal Son (TV 2019)
Genre: Emotional, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotions!!, Low Self-Esteem, Malcolm spends too much time in his head, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Hatred, Stream of Consciousness, Sunshine is his emotional support, Very Low Self-Esteem
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-15
Updated: 2020-08-15
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:47:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25920823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AppalachianApologies/pseuds/AppalachianApologies
Summary: Malcolm stays in with Sunshine, and reflects on the storm outside.Alternatively,Malcolm's self-esteem is so bad he's literally in the negatives, but hey, at least he has Sunshine.
Comments: 6
Kudos: 14





	Downpour

**Author's Note:**

> Uhhhh so I wrote and edited this all within an hour, mostly 'cause I just wanted to get something up, but it's definitely not my best work by far. That being said, I'm still proud of how it came out, and I hope you all enjoy it :D
> 
> Oh also- this is my 20th fic that I've posted!! Wahoo!!

It’s somewhere around four in the morning, and Malcolm doesn’t remember what it feels like to be asleep.

He’s sitting cross legged on the ground, back leaning against the wall with Sunshine perched on his hand, half asleep. Malcolm watches her settle every few minutes, feathers fluffing up before falling back on her fragile body. He feels the opposite.

The rain pitter-patters on his window, a lullaby that tells no lies. It’s the third consecutive day that New York’s had unrelenting rain, and everyone around him is getting steadily more irritable as the hours pass without sunshine. Everyone, it seems, except for Malcolm.

Malcolm feels the same way as the storm itself. The dark clouds make for a perfect photocopy of Malcolm’s brain. He watches the rain fall down his window, mimicking his own sliding thoughts that can never be controlled, only collected.

The rain will end in the next few hours according to the meteorologists, but the gray clouds beg to differ. But then again, it’s always the darkest before dawn.

Malcolm doesn’t want this storm to end. 

This storm is making him human, while the rest of the world falls away from him.

The clouds and himself are one. And one day, they will dry up, and the final drops of water will sputter out like a clogged storm drain. The clouds will change their true colors to something everybody will like more, and then they’ll eventually fade away until they’re nothing more than a memory.

Malcolm wonders when he’ll fade away too. Because just like the storm, it’s inevitable.

One day, the clouds will leave, and the sun will shine. And he knows the New Yorkers are counting down the hours until that happens, counting down the hours until they no longer have to bring their umbrellas everywhere, and until they don’t have to worry about the rain ruining their days.

Malcolm’s storm has lasted thirty years, and he knows that his time is dwindling fast.

The past few months have been wonderful, full of murder cases to keep him busy, and even people he can consider friends. Malcolm thinks that it’s the darkest before dawn, except he is the cloud, and the rain is the only way he can survive.

It’s natural, he tells himself. The ecosystem knows what to do in order to survive, even when it involves raging storms. So really, it’s completely natural that he’s a mess, that everyone counts down the minutes until he’s left, that people are just generally happier when he’s gone.

Sunshine unconsciously fluffs her feathers, and Malcolm smiles.

Not only is she part of his little ecosystem, she’s the most important part. Life flourishes with the sun, and couldn’t survive more than a week without it. 

But the rain beats down in the dead of night, and the sun is sleeping, saving her energy for the day when she’s needed.

Malcolm couldn’t have a world without her.

In their ecosystem, she is the one that makes the gears turn, and she’s the one who keeps everything moving as smoothly as possible. It’s Malcolm that puts a wrench in the cogs.

He tells himself that he’s necessary, as necessary as the rain is outside, but instead all he feels is the stares on the back of his head, and the angry voices inside his brain.

The world wouldn’t be anywhere without the bleak days, but Malcolm wishes that maybe just once  _ he _ could be the sunny days that everyone looks forward to. For every summer day with a calm breeze, there’s Malcolm, a cold and empty shell, blocking out the sun.

He reminds himself that the rain outside creates life, but even he can’t trick himself.

The truth bleeds through.

On the best days, people go through their daily routines like normal, pretending to not notice the rain on their windshields. On the worst days, they curse at the clouds up above, and pray for them to go away so they can see the sun once more.

Malcolm knows where he sits on this scale, even if he tries to block it out.

He’s not an idiot, he knows that sometimes he’s necessary. He’s a profiler, a damn good one at that, and there’s days where the NYPD wouldn’t get anywhere without him.

But when he isn’t needed, people cower away, hiding under awnings as an attempt to escape from the inevitable. And then they’ll stay under their umbrellas for days, lips pulled into a snarl at the sky above them. But as soon as the clouds leave, and the sun opens above them once again, their smiles come back.

People yearn for the sun, for gray, cloudy days lead to more hours spent in a depressed lul.

Malcolm would know.

He’s lived in his storm for thirty years, and how can he see the sun, when he’s the reason it hides? 

Therein lies the problem, Malcolm thinks to himself. Not only has the sun never shined on himself, he’s the reason it doesn’t shine on others. He creates a blanket of bleak gray, and all of his peers must travel miles away to get a peak at the sunshine he’s so intent on blocking. They can handle the rain for hours, even days, but eventually they’ll snap. Eventually, they’ll need to get away from him, even for a few hours of sunny disposition.

He wonders what it’s like being able to travel away from the storm.

He’s not just a storm chaser, he’s the typhoon.

The clouds follow him wherever he goes, and no matter how important to the ecosystem he is, everyone still grovels in their feet when they see him.

What he wouldn’t do to spend a day away from the storm he’s created.

But, he supposes, that’s the entire issue of being the clouds themselves. He can’t get away, no matter how hard he tries. He can travel miles away, but every time he looks up, he’ll be greeted with the gray skies.

...Until he won’t.

No matter the destruction they cause, all the storms in the world share the same ending, and the sun will come out once more.

It’s soothing, knowing that one day his time will come as well. One day, he’ll dry up of rain, and slowly turn paler and paler. People will gaze up, wondering if this is finally the day they’ll get to see the sun again. And one day, it will be.

The storm will be gone, and people will shine smiles up above.

But until that day, the rain will continue to pitter-patter across Malcolm’s window, Sunshine safely hidden away in his arms.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you very much for reading!!
> 
> If you're in a similar depressed state as Malcolm is in, I want you to know that you are loved!! Very much!!!! You are the sun in my life!!!!
> 
> Here are some hotlines for you lovely people:
> 
> Suicide (and Self Harm) Hotline: 1-800-273-8255  
> National Sexual Assault Hotline: 1-800-656-4673  
> National Domestic Violence Hotline: 1-800-799-7233
> 
> Keep in mind that these are all American numbers, but regardless of your country I urge you to go to a safe place and contact somebody who you trust, or find a hotline for your own country <3
> 
> I love all of you guys, I hope you have a wonderful day, and you're never alone!! <3 <3


End file.
